


Ice Mirror

by MagicBiscuit



Category: Legend of Spyro
Genre: Friendship, Gen, au-ish, open-ended
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-13 22:26:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17496533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicBiscuit/pseuds/MagicBiscuit
Summary: Cyril has always been quite different from the other Guardians.Spyro cannot help but notice and wonder why.





	Ice Mirror

Spyro always thought he understood what the cold was.

It was the opposite of warmth. It came mostly when it was dark. It could make his body quiver and his teeth shatter. The colder times of the year sometimes even stripped them of their food. It could be extremely harsh. If they were lucky the cold was simply unpleasant. If they were unlucky it was flat out deadly.

When Ignitus sent him to Dante's Freezer to find Volteer Spyro got to experience the cold at its deadliest. The desolate land seemed to embody this childish idea that he always had. The idea that the cold was something that choked everything around it. It was murderous and could not exist peacefully alongside anything else.

Then Spyro met Cyril.

In many ways the Ice Guardian was everything Spyro had always associated with the cold. He stood in stark contrast to both of his peers.

Volteer talked a lot, but his words were never hurtful. The Electric Guardian was energetic, almost playful. He had an air of youth surrounding him.

Ignitus was like warmth personified. He was kind and patient, albeit a bit short tempered. He was a presence one could gather around.

Cyril, however, was cold, sharp and arrogant.

It was fitting in a way.

Spyro had to admit he did not have a good first impression of the dragon he'd rescued from Tall Plains. As the Guardians discussed the next course of action he watched the newest addition with wary eyes.

When Cyril suggested that he and Spyro venture to the training room Spyro's first thought was to turn him down, but he shook it away. He needed to learn how to control ice just as much as any other element.

Even if Spyro and the Ice Guardian couldn’t get along he needed to learn.

Spyro decided to take a more passive role. Cyril struck him as the kind that you could easily get on the wrong side of. If Spyro just did as he was told things might go smoother between the two.

One the way to the training room, however, Spyro noticed something odd.

It was the way Cyril walked.

His steps were slow and heavy. Each time he put one foot in front of the other ice conjured up around the foot that hit the ground, as if to support its master. Spyro had never seen the other Guardians use their elements in such a way.

The journey to the training room had been a long one, yet it was also very quiet. Spyro didn’t know what to say. Sparx probably didn't dare to speak. Cyril didn't seem interested in talking either.

When they finally made it Cyril looked like he was in pain. His legs shook, but his expression was distant. Spyro thought about asking him if he was all right, but the emotionless look in Cyril's blue eyes made him drop it.

"Let's get started, shall we?"

Cyril's lessons weren't necessarily hard, but the room was so cold that they couldn’t be called easy either. It could be hard to move at times. Though his teacher either didn’t notice or he did not care as he told Spyro what to do and how to do it. If he failed Cyril gave him a biting remark. If he succeeded he got a backhanded compliment instead.

Despite all of this Spyro couldn't become angry. There was a voice in the back of his mind that told him that was something wrong. That there was something important that he did not know.

Each time Spyro approached Cyril he felt like was walking up against a blizzard, constantly pushing him away. When they sat side by side there felt like there was a cold wall separating the two.

As Spyro looked up at a strange looking scar that was on Cyril's neck he couldn't help, but feel that Cyril's coldness was somehow different from the ones he'd felt before.

Just as Spyro finished his training there was a crack. It was like the whole room suddenly shifted in temperature and became warmer. Cyril's voice rang out.

"Yes! Yes you got it!"

His voice was brighter. It seemed more hopeful.

But when Spyro turned to look at him the temperature had dropped again and Cyril remained as he had during the entire training session. Cold and distant.

Things moved along. Spyro rescued Terrador, but Ignitus was captured in the process. Terrador was an honourable warrior. He was calm, collected and just as solid as the earth element he represented. It only served to support the notion that Cyril was the odd one out. He simply didn't fit in with the other Guardians.

Spyro did learn that Cyril was capable of kindness, however, as he was the one he encouraged Spyro to go forward with his head held high to rescue Ignitus.

It made the Ice Guardian seem all the more confusing.

Spyro rescued Ignitus as well as Cynder and things began to settle.

Spyro spent his days trying to regain the powers he lost in the aftermath in his battle against Cynder's transformed form. Cynder and Sparx were rarely too far away from his side. Ignitus and Terrador spent their days helping the younger ones. Volteer spent most of his time in the library.

That left Cyril.

The ice dragon was gone before Spyro woke up in the morning. Spyro seldom saw him and when he did it was when everyone else had gathered as well. Sometimes Spyro could hear the other Guardians speak to each other in hushed voices. While Spyro always tried to avoid eavesdropping he did hear Terrador say something along the lines of "Cyril's going back to ‘his old habits again’."

That caught Spyro’s attention.

One day as Spyro was helping Volteer sort out his mountains upon mountains of books in the dimly lit library he decided to take the opportunity to ask a question that had been on his mind for quite some time now.

"How come Cyril is so different from the rest of you?" Spyro asked as he balanced on top of one of the many stacks of dusty books.

Volteer looked out from behind one of the many large bookshelves. He looked puzzled by the question. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Spyro looked down at his feet.

"It's just that...," he began only to have his words falter. Volteer came out from his spot and lay down near Spyro. He watched the younger dragon quietly. There was a strange glint in his amber eyes.

Spyro found himself unable to look at Volteer. He didn't get the impression that the Electric Guardian was angry, but there was definitely something strange in the air.

Spyro tried again.

"It just that Cyril isn’t like the rest of you, he sticks out in a way." Spyro said. He knew that was a poor explanation on what was on his mind, but he didn't know how else he could put it. It didn't feel right to outright bash Cyril. He’d taught Spyro just as much as the other Guardians had, after all.

Volteer's expression became thoughtful one. His swung his tail back and forth in an almost rhythmic fashion. The hesitation made Spyro worry that he'd accidentally entered territory he shouldn't have. Volteer was so talkative yet now he was completely silent. It was enough to make Spyro nervous.

When Volteer finally spoke his words were completely different from what Spyro had expected.

"Tell me, young dragon," Volteer began, "How would you describe Dante's Freezer?"

"Cold." Spyro replied with some hesitation. What else was he supposed to say? Volteer chuckled and nodded.

"That it is!" He said, "Allow me to rephrase my question then; How would you describe the climate as you saw it on Dante's Freezer?"

Spyro jumped down from the stack of books he was sitting on, dust flying everywhere as he did so.

Spyro frowned as he mulled it over. The question wasn't all the different from that first one Volteer had asked, but "cold" was clearly not the answer Volteer was looking for. He tried to imagine the place in his mind, searching for anything that could perhaps give him some sort of hint.

Aside from the obvious cold the land had been sharp and difficult to navigate. More than once the ice had been so solid that it was impossible to break through.

"It seemed hopeless," Spyro said quietly. The apes weren't native to the land, but the Trolls and Ogres were. Spyro always got the impression that they were undead, killed by the land they called home. Spyro shuddered slightly at the thought of the Ice King.

"It felt like nothing could live there and whatever actually did was doomed to become an undead corpse." Spyro muttered and as he did so he found himself wondering. Why did the Trolls and Ogres live there to begin with? Surely if some of their kin got turned into those ice monsters wouldn't the rest simply run away? They couldn’t all have frozen to death all at once, could they?

Volteer remained uncharacteristically quiet as Spyro thought.

Spyro's frown became deeper. Then he remembered something.

"Despite being practically impenetrable in some places the ice could be really fragile." Spyro recalled. This caught Volteer's attention. It was almost like he had been waiting for Spyro to mention something like this.

"Ice is a strange element," he said, "it can be harder than diamonds yet more fragile than a new-born child."

Spyro finally looked up at Volteer. The older dragon's expression was one of worry.

"We are shaped by our environments, Spyro" Volteer said, "Our past can control what path we decide to take in the future."

A smile had made it's was across Volteer's face, but it was a bleak one.

"Patience can get you past any door. Please keep that in mind, young dragon."

 

Later that night as Spyro tried to sleep the words Volteer had spoken to him kept playing over and over again in his head. There was no doubt in his mind that they were connected to Cyril somehow.

Spyro tossed and turned. He had way too many questions gnawing at his mind. The clear look of concern on Volteer's face did not help.

A sudden drop of temperature made Spyro rise up from his lying position.

He looked around himself, but he saw no one.

Spyro began to look around the other rooms of the temple. On the floor he found small patches of ice spaced apart to fit the footsteps of an adult dragon.

Spyro decided to follow them.

It was no surprise to him that he found Cyril where the trail stopped. He was at the outpost lying down on the stone. Spyro could even see all the ice that had gathered around Cyril's body and shuddered. Did he not feel cold?

Quietly Spyro approached him. Either Cyril did not notice or he did not care as Spyro sat down next to him.

Spyro quivered as he looked up at Cyril. The cold air didn't seem to bother Cyril in the slightest as he looked off into the distance. Following his gaze Spyro's eyes landed on Dante's Freezer.

"Have you been to Dante’s Freezer before?" Spyro asked before quickly covering his mouth. His plan hadn't been to start a conversation.

Cyril didn't even look at him as he replied. "I guess you can say that." he said coolly.

Since they already started talking they might as well continue the conversation. He might learn something that could help him understand. Spyro's mind quickly searched for another question to ask.

"Was it always such a desolate land?" Spyro asked, worry gnawing at his stomach as he did so. It felt like a stupid question. The way Ignitus described the place to him gave Spyro the impression that it had always been like that. He silently cursed himself for not being able to think of something better.

Cyril looked down at Spyro briefly before turning his attention back to Dante's Freezer, but he didn't say anything.

Spyro frowned slightly. Why the sudden hesitation?

Much to Spyro's surprise, it was Cyril who spoke next. "Why are you up so late?" he asked.

Cyril clearly wanted to change the course of the conversation. While keeping that interesting titbit in mind Spyro decided to let Cyril have his way as he gave an awkward chuckle. "I just couldn't sleep." he said sheepishly.

Cyril just responded with a simple "I see."

Spyro looked up at Cyril "So why are _you_ up so late?" he asked.

Cyril tensed and a silence fell over the both of them. The air around them became colder. Spyro could even see his own breath.

It felt like an eternity passed as they each looked in their own direction. Every once in a while Spyro tried to close the gap in between the two of them, even if it was just a tiny bit. Each time he did so it became colder.

Eventually Spyro decided to close the very last gap in between them as he lay down on the ice surrounding Cyril. Just as he did so the ice that was specifically around Spyro disappeared into thin air. Cyril sighed.

"You're almost as hopeless as Volteer." he said.

That was interesting. He knew that Volteer and Cyril fought a lot, but perhaps there was more to it?

"You still haven't answered my question yet." Spyro said. "What are you doing out here?"

Cyril sighed and shook his head. "Why are you so nosy?" he asked. He sounded tired.

Spyro couldn't help, but smile. "Volteer says that it's good for a young dragon to have a healthy curiosity!" he said. Cyril snorted.

"Volteer says a lot of things, usually of no value. I wouldn't put a lot of stock in his words."

Spyro tilted his head slightly to the left. For a moment Spyro thought he could hear fondness in Cyril's usually cold tone.

Cyril turned his attention back to Dante's Freezer. Spyro used the rare opportunity to get a proper look at Cyril.

He body was much like the other Guardians which wasn't surprising. They were all large, adult dragons with a lot of scars covering their scales. Cyril's features were sharper than the others, however. This paired with his light blue and purple colour scheme made him look like he'd been moulded from the very element that he controlled. It suited him.

Spyro's purple eyes landed on the joint where Cyril's leg and foot connected. It, too, was scarred. The scar itself looked very different from the others Spyro had seen.

It was large scar that covered the entire joint. It had also discoloured Cyril's scales and made them look pure white. Spyro looked up at Cyril and found that the scar he'd noticed a little while ago was very similar in its shape and colour. Spyro looked behind him and found that Cyril’s back foot had the exact same scar as the one on the front.

A bad feeling crept over Spyro as he examined the scars. He looked up at Cyril, then up at the stars, then back to Cyril again. He wanted to ask, but he felt like he shouldn't.

Cyril, who clearly noticed Spyro's odd change in behaviour, looked down at him.

When Cyril noticed what had caught Spyro's attention the temperature dropped so rapidly that Spyro thought he might suffocate. He looked up at Cyril. His eyes had become dark.

Spyro, gathering all the strength he could muster, forced himself to speak. "What happened?" he asked through shattering teeth. He could feel all the muscles in Cyril's body tense up once again.

Cyril looked like he was having in internal debate with himself. Spyro tried to huddle up to Cyril to get at least some protection from the biting cold.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he heard Cyril mutter an "oh". Spyro was about to ask what that meant, but he was stopped by the sound of Cyril's tail slamming into the ground.

Spyro breathed a sigh of relief as the temperature rose again. It still wasn't warm by any stretch of the imagination, but it was miles better than what Spyro had just experienced.

He heard Cyril cough awkwardly.

"I apologise for that," he said in a very quiet tone, "I don't always notice how I change the air around me."

Spyro smiled in silent forgiveness as he looked up at Cyril again. The older dragon had turned his head away from him. Spyro's unanswered question still hung in the air.

Cyril sighed through his nose and turned his head back towards Spyro. He opened his mouth to speak, but then he closed it again. Cyril looked back down at Dante's Freezer. With one final sigh he finally spoke.

"I did something once." Cyril said. His voice was clearer than Spyro had expected it to be when discussing something that seemed so personal.

"It was something so terrible I'm surprised I was even allowed to become a Guardian."

Cyril lifted his foot slightly above the ground and looked at it absent-mindedly. Little snow crystals fell from it like it was a tiny could. He gave a dry chuckle. "This is simply a reminder of the punishment that I faced for my crimes. Nothing more."

Spyro could feel the shock that had made itself so very clear on his face. His first instinct was to ask Cyril what he did, but he found himself hesitating.

Spyro's eyes landed on the ice that conjured itself up by Cyril's other front foot. His own reflection looked back at him, but it was distorted. It was him and at the same time it was not. Spyro remembered many places on Dante's Freezer being like a distorted mirror.

He recalled Terrador's words and Volteer's worried expression. Cyril said he was surprised that he was allowed to be a Guardian, but the feeling he got from the others was not one of distrust.

Spyro found himself wondering. The Cyril he was speaking to here seemed more whole than the one that had trained him a little while ago. It was like there were some pieces that had been hidden away from him back then so he hadn’t been able to see the full picture.

Maybe that had been intentional.

He looked up at Cyril. The older dragon had put down his foot and was looking out towards the frozen realm again.

Spyro thought about the strange mirrors that Cyril’s element provided. What did the world look like for a dragon that hid behind his very own element? Could the Ice Guardian see through the muddled distortions he could create? What did Cyril see as the ice reflected his image back at him?

Spyro truly wanted to know.

Suddenly Cyril spoke. "Aren't you cold?" he asked. Spyro snapped out of his thoughts. He blinked a couple of times and then tilted his head. "I'm not actually." Spyro said. Had he gotten used to the cold or was it something else?

Cyril frowned. "Are you sure?" he asked. Spyro nodded.

Cyril looked over at the horizon and after giving his umpteenth sigh for the night, pushed Spyro back to his feet.

Cyril shook his head. "You’re up way past your bed time, young dragon." he muttered. "If you don't go to sleep soon you might not be able to do much in the morning."

Spyro stood his ground. No way was he going to leave Cyril alone. Not after what he learned tonight. "I'm not going anywhere." he said. "Not unless you're coming with me!"

Cyril rolled his eyes. "I'm well past the age where I need a designated bed time."

Spyro huffed. "If I'm too young to be up so late at night then you're too old for the same thing!" he retorted. Spyro trotted over to Cyril and gave him a small push.

Cyril sighed once again. It only took three pushes from Spyro to get him moving. Cyril slowly got up to his feet and, once he noticed Spyro looking at him brightly, grunted. "I'm only coming along to avoid getting another lecture from Ignitus."

Spyro took the lead. Cyril followed slowly behind.

When they had finally made it into the Guardians resting place Cyril pushed Spyro towards Ignitus general direction. "I can't tell how cold you are," Cyril muttered. He was surprisingly audible over Terrador's snoring. "But you should sleep over there for what little remains of the night. It'd be no good if you got sick."

When Spyro hesitated Cyril formed some ice underneath Spyro and slid him towards Ignitus. The fire dragon grunted when Spyro collided with him, but he didn't wake.

Cyril settled down not too far from Volteer.

"If he asks questions just tell him I told you to do it." Cyril said.

Spyro nestled himself against Ignitus. He looked over at Cyril. The older dragon had already closed his eyes.

"Cyril?" Spyro called out.

Cyril huffed.

"What is it you want now?"

Spyro took a deep breath before speaking.

"Please don't wander off again."

"Why?"

Cyril was sharp and to the point, but Spyro wasn’t going to hesitate this time.

"Because I want to learn from you tomorrow."

There was a brief silence. Spyro wondered if Cyril had fallen asleep until he heard Cyril laugh. An actual, genuine laugh.

"Very well, young dragon." Cyril said, "Just don't expect me to be as gentle as Ignitus."

Spyro smiled at his tiny victory. He was going to learn. He was going to understand.

Perhaps one day he might even be able to see past the distorted figure in the icy mirror and see the true dragon behind it.


End file.
